A Trip Down Memory Lane
by Pureblood-Slytherins
Summary: 17 years after the Outbound Flight mission Maris and Thrawn meet again.


A/N: This story takes place 17 years after "Outbound Flight" and thus 9 years after Thrawn joined the Empire. Hence, he is 39 years old. (Honestly, to me it's still unbelievable that Thrawn was 58 years in "Heir to the Empire"! In that respect "Outbound Flight" totally destroyed my picture of Thrawn. Otherwise it's my favourite Star Wars book, along with "Shadows of the Empire" and the original "Saga" – naturally.) My aim is to write a little Thrawn/Maris story that is slightly different. I just hope to be able to stay in character – this is quite honestly my biggest worry. I'm just too much of a fluff and tatty romance writer with a strange inclination towards `villains´, which – let's face it - is a very bad combination and at times impossible to write. And be warned, it's quite possible that some of the finer details in this story do not belong into the Star Wars universe or are simply wrong (dates, ranks, names, facts, etc.). I call myself a `fan´, but I'm not quite such a geek - yet. Nevertheless, I hope you do not mind and enjoy my little afternoon creation. Sadly, _I own nothing and Star Wars belongs to George Lucas_ and Lucas' Films.

_**A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE**_

**1**

"The past is never dead. It's not even past." - Gavin Stevens.

(Requiem for a Nun: Act I, Scene III.)

The Star Destroyer _Admonitor_ was slowly gliding through the deep, _dark emptiness that was space._Captain Dagon Niriz stood straight, looking through the vast view-screens in front of him into the nothingness, hands clasped behind his back. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it felt like the calm before the storm and his stomach churned with unwelcome anxiety.

"Captain Niriz, Sir. We are receiving an incoming transmission from an unknown spacecraft." The com-link officer stated, his face set with firm concentration. "They claim to have information concerning the whereabouts of Gent Semtin, Sir."

Gent Semtin. A second-rate ship thief with first class connections to some of the finest shipbuilding facilities here in the Unknown Territories. Nothing even remotely as sophisticated as _KDY technology, but still sufficient enough to fill their never ending need of ships and spare parts. So far their cooperation had been worthwhile on both accounts. Lately, however, Semtin's services had become less and less reliable, until they had come to a complete halt and he still owed the Empire some small change to put it mildly._

"Acknowledged. Please open a communication channel." A beep confirmed his request.

"Unknown space craft. This is the ISS _Admonitor_, Captain Niriz speaking. Please identify yourself and state your purpose."

"This is the space freighter _Bargain Hunter._ My name is Thetires. I heard you're looking for Gent Semtin and willing to pay a certain price for that particular information." A lifetime of service to the Fleet and always the same: Pirates, smugglers and bounty hunters thriving for their financial benefit. For him they were all nothing but criminals, but the Admiral had made it quite clear that out here they could not afford the luxury of not using their services from time to time. That however did not imply that he had to like it and right now Captain Niriz wished himself back to the Deep Core. At least there the lines of right and wrong were quite clear and men like himself would not have to listen to such scum.

"We are. _If_ the information you provide proves genuine. I am sure you understand that we have to check this information of yours thoroughly before any kind of payment will be granted." Silence.

"How long will this take? We have other business to attend to."

Niriz almost grimaced at that, but routine and drill made sure that no emotion was seen on his ever so expressionless face. He had a very clear idea about this `other business´ they were referring to and surely they did not want to come close to the Empire while it lasted – but here they were, asking for credits.

"24 hours minimum. 20.000 Imperial Credits. Take it or leave it." Judging by the state of the old freighter they should better take it.

"24 hours it is then."

Commander Voss Parck entered his superior's office; today's log in his hand. It had been nine years since he had found him on this desolate planet in the middle of nowhere and now _Admiral_ Thrawn outranked him by several degrees. Granted, it had been a strange feeling at first, but then again he had known from the very beginning that Mitth'raw'nuruodo was born to command. The door opened before he even had the chance to announce his arrival.

"Admiral?" He asked in the doorway, waiting for a permission to enter the sanctity that was Thrawn's office.

"Please, enter." Thrawn sat behind this desk, turned around and then pressed a switch, deactivating some holo-sculptures. "I saw you arriving." He explained, pointing at a small screen on his desk.

"I only came to bring you today's report, Sir. Nothing out of the ordinary." Sometimes it felt surreal that they still proceeded strictly after Imperial Navy Protocol so far out in the Unknown Territories. Coruscant and its bureaucracy were light-years away and the inflexible rules often proved inept for the situation here. One of the Navy's rather tedious regulations stated that the commanding officer had to see and sign the daily report.

"Is this the end of your shift?" Thrawn inquired, as he took the log.

"Yes, Sir."

"Well, enjoy the rest of the evening then. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Sir." Commander Parck's posture clearly became more relaxed and he made his way towards the door.

It was probably time to call it a day for him as well, Thrawn thought as he sat down on the couch and poured himself a glass of Corellian whiskey. Usually he wouldn't drink, but the headache that had been torturing him for the last couple of hours still hadn't eased, and he would go to bed anyway after looking through this.

_The TIE-Fighter repairs were still behind __schedule__, they lacked rations and water – this could actually become a real problem if they wouldn't fix this soon - the president of Beelas II had threatened to leave the Empire if they couldn't protect their civilian transporters properly and they had a smuggler ship in their tail, waiting for its payment on information about __Gent Semtin. No, nothing to worry about really. __Beelas II was of no consequence to him, as it was closer to the Outer-Rim then Wild Space and Gent Semtin just served to set an example with a very simple message: Don't mess with the Empire. _

He was about the take another sip as he suddenly froze, his eyes fixed on two words: _Bargain Hunter._

Was it possible that the old silver-gray ship was still commissioned? Or had the name simply been given to another freighter after the old one had been disassembled? How long had it been since he had last thought about the _Bargain Hunter_ and its crew? Jori, Dubrak and Maris. Were they well? What did they do? He had thought about looking them up once or twice over the years, but what purpose would it have served other than to satisfy his curiosity? It didn't matter, because now he had all the reasons he needed.

There was little information about the _Bargain Hunter_ and even less about its crew. There was no official record of decommission, but then again such information was more often than not incomplete when dealing with smuggler ships. The pictures he had were old, but still had their effect on him. One of them in particular and he magnified one person in it - Maris Ferasi. Her face was beaming at him from the screen now. Her smile was genuine and her green eyes were those of a child: innocent, pure and oh so naïve. Just like he remembered her. Even after 17 years she still held a strange power over him. He had been so young back then. Naïve in his own way even. Barely twenty in years, he had felt confident enough to lead a fleet into battle, but had been at a complete loss to express his feelings to her, making a fool of himself along the way. He smiled sadly as he remembered some of the less rational orders he had given just to meet her approval. They had tip-toed around each other for weeks during those private language lessons, neither of them brave enough to make the first step. At first he had told himself that it was just his curiosity for these `aliens´ that were so strikingly similar to the Chiss, that had triggered his fascination for her – the first female human he had ever laid eyes on. But then… Thrawn shook his head. What did it matter now? This was the past and a trip down memory lane served no one. Although tomorrow he would make sure to talk to the _Bargain Hunter _personally.

Sleep had not come easy that night. Thrawn wasn't sure if it was because of the headache or because of the long forgotten memories this smuggler ship had evoked in him. At one point he had honestly considered getting up and having a look at the ship, but then had thought better.

"Admiral on the bridge, Sir." a young Cadet announced. Captain Niriz then turned around and nodded to his superior in acknowledgement.

"Good morning, Admiral."

"And to you, Captain." returned Thrawn as he joined him at the view-screen.

"You like this place." It was not a question.

"So I do, Sir. It allows me to keep an eye on the crew as well as whatever happens outside."

"Indeed. Speaking of outside, what do you know about the _Bargain Hunter_?" Thrawn pointed at the little, sliver dot right outside the window. It surprised Niriz that of all things the _Bargain Hunter_ seemed to be the Admiral's first priority. But then again Niriz had long stopped questioning the Admiral.

"Not much, Sir. It is an exceptionally old model – at least 35 years old. It has been to a lot of places from Alderaan to Csilla. All kinds of space ports are listed in its registry. It is a wonder it is still functional as it does not seem to be in its best shape. The man we talked to, Douglas Thetires, has a record of gambling and smuggling, but nothing too extreme. We have scanned two other life forms on board. Both probably human. The information they gave us seem to be correct. I wanted to give them the money, unless you have other plans, Sir."

Thrawn shook his head. "No, not at all." So this was indeed _the_ Bargain Hunter. He wondered…

"Why do not give it to them now?" Thrawn turned around. "Lieutenant Krislov, would you please contact the _Bargain Hunter_?"

"The _Bargain Hunter_ responded and offered to open a channel, Sir." Krislov answered about a minute later.

"Very well. On Screen, Lieutenant."

Whatever Thrawn had expected to see, this was not it. A human child answered their call. It was ten, maybe twelve years of age and had curly, brown hair and large green eyes.

"Hello. Are you the Captain that'll give us the money?"

"Not quite. My name is Thrawn. I believe this here…" he pointed at Niriz besides him "…is the Captain you are talking about. His name is Niriz. Well, now that we have introduced ourselves, would you mind giving us your name?"

The boy smiled. "Sure! I'm Seryosha Quennto." Seryosha Quennto. Dubrak's son. It was unbelievable. Dubrak had a child… and the nerve to take it with him on smuggling tours. He had never liked him much, this surely did not help. All the same, it would be nice to see him again.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Seryosha. Could I please talk to your father?"

The boy looked a bit confused and sad. "My father's dead. He died years ago!"

"I am sorry." and he truly was for a second. "I knew your father, but that was a long time ago. I had no idea he died."

"That's ok." The boy reassured him. "As I said, that was years ago. I mean…I do still miss him! But it's not as bad anymore as it used to be. And I still have mom and Doug." Thrawn nodded. Douglas Thetires he knew about, his mother on the other hand…why hadn't he thought about his mother before? Thrawn looked at the boy once more and felt an uneasy knot in his stomach. Those eyes.

"Who is your mother?" He almost dreaded the answer.

"Maris Quennto, naturally! Why? Do you know my mother, too?"

"I most certainly do." The boy's expression showed that he was honestly surprised about this revelation, while Thrawn remained quiet for while. "Please tell your mother that she can collect the money later this afternoon. I will send her the specific instructions shortly."

"Ok. And thanks, I guess."

"You are quite welcome."

Thrawn had left the bridge without a word. Back in his quarters he sat down behind his desk, still unable to comprehend what he had just heard and why this affected him so much. Maris had married Quennto and they had son together. That was how the galaxy worked after all. People fell in love, married and had children. Maris had been Dubrak's girlfriend 17 years ago, but he never thought she would marry him. Never. He had always imagined that Quennto was just a phase she was going through and that she would leave him as soon as she would realize that his only goal in life was profit. She could have done so much better than Quennto. `Better than Quennto´ he heard a little, treacherous voice repeat in his head. Alright, him. She could have had him and in his arrogance he had, somewhere deep down inside, believed that she would wait for him. What a foolish thought this was, when he thought about it rationally. He had not really thought about her in years and her biological clock was ticking just like that of every other woman. It was nothing but plain, old male pride that had been hurt today. And as much as he wished otherwise, he was obviously not above it. He had `lost´ in some sense and that was a feeling he was neither familiar nor comfortable with.

**2**

„Be not ashamed of mistakes and thus make them crimes." – Confucius.

Maris Quennto felt a little nervous as Colonel Olmos guided her through the seemingly endless corridors of the _Admonitor_. Why she wasn't sure. She had done nothing wrong after all. Probably out of the same reason she had argued with Douglas about selling the Semtin information in first place. She had not wanted to see him again, to see what he had become. His instructions had been quite clear. He had wanted her to come alone. Doug had not been pleased, but they needed the money badly. _What was his plan?_ Maris wondered. Thrawn always had a plan, a goal, a particular aim to reach. It was like his ever active mind could not help itself and thirsted for challenges. Every new situation provided him with new ideas and new pawns to play with in an incredible sophisticated game of galactic dimensions. The thought that he just wished to see her again, did not even enter her mind.

"In here, Milady. The Admiral is awaiting you."

"Thank you."

It felt like a déjà-vu when she entered his office, seeing him sitting at that desk. Just like back in the old days. However, this time the language barrier would be of a different kind. It was strange this feeling of knowing a person and then not knowing it at all, because the other person had changed, evolved, moved on - without the other.

"Maris Quennto. It has been a long time." He studied her face. She was still beautiful, but time had left its mark upon her, in appearance as well as mannerism. There were some lines around her eyes that hadn't been there before and she seemed to be more in control of her actions, more balanced. The most noticeable change however he found in her eyes. They had lost their light, their inner-glow that had spoken louder than all words in the galaxy and had reach out to his heart in ways he still could not comprehend. The idealist had gone. Probably a long time ago. A painful, but on the same time strangely relieving discovery for it had not been is his doing that had broken her spirit so utterly. At least he hoped, it hadn't. For a second he feared what she might see. Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo of the _Chiss _Expansionary Defence Fleet was the past. No, not the past, but far worse, because the Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo _she _remembered had never really existed.

"It has." She replied, a shy smile on her lips. Mitth'raw'nuruodo had always held an air of confidence and slight superiority around him, but age and his new uniform seemed to underline it even further.

"Please have a seat." Maris nodded and sat down in front of the desk.

"Life has been good to you, _Admiral_." Maris commented as she looked around.

"After some fashion. Can I offer you some refreshments? A coffee, perhaps?"

"Coffee?" Maris raised an eyebrow. "I see you do not waste any of humanity's pleasures. Yes please, a coffee would be nice." There was small corner with all kinds of liquids and Maris gratefully accepted the steaming mug, warming her cold fingers on it.

"Who would have thought some years ago that we would end up here?" Maris shook her head. "I surely would not."

"Life has a way of being unpredictable. That is what makes it so fascinating. I for one was quite surprised to talk to your son this morning."

Maris smiled. "Seryosha. He's my life. I told him not to answer incoming transmissions, but he does not listen. For him, life is just big adventure and he cannot see the dangers. He is too good natured and far too trusting."

"I know." Thrawn remembered his eyes. Her eyes. "A gift he inherited from his mother."

"It's not a gift. It's a curse." Maris laughed a sad laugh.

"Do not say that, Maris." It hurt a little to see how much she despised what he had valued above everything else about her. "What happened to you? I never thought you would stay in smuggling. It is, after all, a criminal act. A respectable life on a nice little planet or even the rebellion seemed more likely to me."

"Are you recruiting for the Alliance now?"She obviously had no intention to discuss her private life with him.

"Merely verbalizing an observation." He took a deep breath. "Why did you marry Quennto?" He had to know this.

"A rather personal question for someone I haven't seen in years, don't you think?"

He remained silent for a second. "You are right. I am sorry." Thrawn opened one of the drawers of his desk and brought out a small Royal Bank data-chip.

"20.000 Credits, right?" he typed in the number and signed the pad with a special pen of a design Maris had not seen before. He handed her the chip. "You can withdraw the money at any cash machine within the Empire. Some banks may take charges for their services. You may want to check that first." Maris nodded and put the chip carefully on top of her bag, which lay on her lap.

"Thank you." She was about to get up and leave, but then decided against it.

"Quennto was a good man, Mitth'raw'nuruodo. I know you did not like him and I know he had his faults." She smiled. "He was moody, loud, a little arrogant and not always completely honest with me. But he loved me. I know that. Our life was not perfect, but I do not regret a single day. My son is the best thing that ever happened to me…I do what I have to do for him and can no longer afford to fall prey to my emotions or naïve dreams. And you of all people have no right to judge me…At least Quennto never pretended to be more than he really was."That hurt. He knew she was right, but it still hurt.

"Jori told you about the `Outbound Flight´ then."

"No, he did not. I found out myself. Even out here such things to not stay quiet for long. I cannot believe you did that."

What could he possibly say? Even after all those years he was far from being proud of what he had done. He had caused of the death of 50.000 innocent men, just because of this one, old fool. How many lives had he destroyed that day? Families? Dreams? He could not imagine. He had told himself a dozen times that he had had no other choice, but it did not make the situation any better.

"I never pretend to be someone else, someone better, nobler than I really am. You made that person up. I simply did not object. My action was appropriate and I would do again." Maris felt like she was about to cry. "You had no choice, uh?" Was he really that unemotional. Really that unfeeling? Had she been so utterly wrong about him?

"That is correct."

Maris got up. "You always have a choice, Mitth'raw'nuruodo. You are an intelligent man. I may not be a naïve, young girl anymore, but I still know the difference between right and wrong. The `Outbound Flight´ was wrong, as is the Empire… I wish I had never met you… I wish I had never taught you basic."

Maris regretted her words as soon as they had been spoken, because they were not true. She did not regret meeting him. She did not regret their language lessons. Not one second of them. But she was so desperate to reach him – somehow, anyhow!

"Then someone else would have taught me. This is my destiny, Maris. The Empire. It gives me the power and opportunity to change things, without being bound by the laws of my people. This is where I belong. I may not be the noble man you wanted me to be, but my intentions are good. You are at liberty to question the means by with they are accomplished. I just wish that you would not hate me as much as you do."

Strangely enough she believed him. Quite possibly because she wanted to believe him so badly. She simply could not bear the thought that she had been so wrong about him. He was a good man. She knew it. Maris sighed and shook her head. Thrawn got up and cornered the desk in order to say goodbye.

"I am sorry our reunion was not a happier one." He said and took her hands in his. Maris felt tears running down her cheeks.

"You have no idea how often I wished to see you again …and now I've spoilt it." She released one of her hands and brushed away some tears. "I cannot hate you, Mitth'raw'nuruodo." she said, lips pressed together, trying not to cry again. "Because I loved you" she said, this time in Cheunh. Though she hadn't used the language in years, she still remembered it perfectly. She could not look him in the eye. But what did it matter now? At least she had said it, though she was sure he must have known for years. He still held her hands as she uttered those words he had wanted to hear so desperately. And now it was too late.

"I know." he whispered. And maybe it was the better the way it was. He could never have loved her the way she deserved. Still neither could deny himself any long what he wanted for the last two decades and so he slowly pulled her close, brushed away the remaining tears on her cheeks and kissed her. Slowly, deliberately. Absentmindedly, Maris dropped her bag, altogether with the credit-chip, while returning his kiss with unexpected passion.

**3**

"It sets even a wise man to singing and to laughing gently and rouses him up to dance and brings forth words which were better unspoken." – Homer (The Odyssey, bk. XIV, l. 463)

Captain Niriz studied the Admiral. He had never been a talkative one, but he seems unusually quite since the departure of the _Bargain Hunter _this morning. He wondered what had happened and if it might have anything to do with the lady that had been with him to collect the money. They had known each other after all.

"The daily report, Captain? From you?"Niriz swallowed.

"Yes, Sir. I was on my way anyway and I just wondered if I could be of any service. You seem rather _depressed _lately if you do not mind me saying so, Sir." Thrawn smiled.

"No, not all. I did not know it was that obvious."

"It is not, Sir." Thrawn was about to say how stupid that answer was, but then did not. The Captain just wanted to be nice and he could do with a friend right now.

"If you really want to be of service to me…" Thrawn said, going to his cupboard and returning with two glasses and a bottle of Corellian whiskey "…then drink this with me. I simply refuse to drink alone about this."

"Sir, I am sure I do not have to tell you that it is against Navy regulation that the commanding officer AND his second in command get drunk at the same time."

Thrawn set down on the couch. "Rank has its privileges, my friend and therefore I officially declare you now off-duty. Here…" he put the glass right in front of him. "Let Voss have the bridge for a change. He was Captain of the _Starwayman _for years before his demotion. He knows how to handlea ship."

Thrawn poured both of them two _full _glasses and Niriz started to fear that this might have been a very bad idea.

"Do these privileges cover tomorrow's shift as well?" he asked mischievously as he reached for the glass.

"I think I will delegate that decision to tomorrow. Cheers." The two men swallowed and Niriz coughed slightly as the dark liquor burned its way down his throat. It had been too long.

"So? To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Niriz tired after the second glass.

Thrawn stared down at his hands. "I'm not drunk enough yet to even _consider _telling all you about it." He shook his head. What was he waiting for? He needed to tell someone or he would go mad.

"Dagon? I've never asked you, which is really bad if I consider how long I have known you, but - Do you have a family?"

The End

A/N: It's done. Hurray!^^ Please leave a review!


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